


On a Black Coach

by RobberBaroness



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, F/M, Gothic Romance, Kidnapping, Trope Bingo Round 14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22302448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: Becky Albright is in a scrape.  If she doesn't find a husband while she is in Gotham, her mother will marry her off against her will.  Then, Jonathan Crane- a dark, mysterious rogue sentenced to death for murder- inspires a plan.  She'll marry him secretly and return home a widow.  But sometimes even the best laid plans fall apart...
Relationships: Becky Albright/Jonathan Crane
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen





	On a Black Coach

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the summary of "Rogue's Widow, Gentleman's Wife" by Helen Dickson. My thanks to the Unconventional Courtship challenge for the prompt generator! And my apologies to the novel Nine Coaches Waiting for stealing their titular allusion.
> 
> Trope bingo prompt: romance novel.

“Visitor, Crane!”

Becky Albright stepped into the jail cell, her cane sounding uncomfortably loud as it tapped on the floor. The man in the jail cell looked much more delicate than he had in his wanted poster, more the sort of man she’d have met in a pleasant drawing room setting than shackled and confined to a prison. When he looked at her, she had to actively keep from gasping at his eyes.

They were the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Of course the poster hadn’t been able to capture that.

“Do I know you?” His voice was soft, almost soothing. She took a deep breath to steady herself and keep from getting lost in that voice.

“You’re Jonathan Crane. You poisoned two men in order to steal the chemicals they kept in their laboratory. One of the lawmen who arrested you died two days later, and they say that means you poisoned him, too. You’re going to hang in the morning. And…” She swallowed hard. “And I want to marry you.”

A part of her had expected Crane to laugh at her, but he was uncomfortably silent instead.

“There’s going to be a preacher to take your last confession, isn’t there? He could marry us. It wouldn’t cost you anything, and it would mean the world to me. My mother wouldn’t be able to make me marry anyone else if I was a widow, and I would have a license to prove it, and-”

“Shhh.” Crane held up a hand to his lips, and Becky found herself quieting as if on command. The light gleamed off his glasses, and when he smiled, it looked as if he were something not entirely human. “You haven’t even told me your name.”

“I’m sorry. It’s- it’s Becky. I mean, Rebecca Albright.”

“Miss Albright, compose yourself. You say I won’t be losing anything in the arrangement, but you forget- I’ll be gaining something.” The light faded and again his eyes were a searing blue. “I’ll be gaining a bride.”

Even knowing it meant nothing, Becky couldn’t help but shiver. (It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant shiver, and that fact in itself made her a little bit uncomfortable.)

“If there’s anything else you want- I can’t pay you, but you wouldn’t be able to take anything with you anyway.”

“How tactful of you. But Miss Albright, I ask again, compose yourself. You almost sound afraid of me.”

He leaned forward and she involuntarily jumped back.

“You see? It’s silly, if you think about it. I’m in handcuffs, aren’t I? And even if I weren’t, what reason would I possibly have to hurt you? Just what are you afraid of?”

“A lot of things,” Becky mumbled. What the hell, it was true. “My mother, mostly. I was trying to tell you before, she thinks she can make me marry one of father’s old friends, and I’d rather-”

“You’d rather marry a murderer with one night to live. Is that what you were going to say?” Crane smiled. “Can’t say I blame you. One night is easier to take than an entire life, and while I may be a murderer, I certainly wouldn’t demand you perform our marital rites in front of the eyes of leering guards.” His voice grew even softer, and she had to lean in to hear him. “I was afraid of my mother, too.”

For a moment, the mask of condescension had fallen away from the murderer. But it only lasted a moment.

“So then, Miss Albright,” he said. “The future Mrs. Crane. I will be expecting something for my trouble, if not a full wedding night.” He cocked his head, like an animal listening to something far away. “Maybe a kiss.”

“A kiss?” It was foolish to be startled by such a request- if she was going to marry him, they’d be expected to at least kiss once in the ceremony- but it startled her nonetheless. “Why?”

“Because I want to. I give you my name, you give me a kiss. Do we have a deal? If we don’t, there’s some newspaper reading I could be getting back to before my appointment with the gallows.”

Becky looked him in the eyes, determined this time not to show her fear. She was fairly certain she pulled it off.

“Deal.”

That smile was back, and Becky again experienced that shiver of not entirely unpleasant fear. Before she could make another movie, he was standing and pressing her back against the bars, his lips on hers in more than just the momentary, mocking kiss she had been expecting. If she’d had a true love, he would have kissed her like this- instead, she was being seized by a notorious poisoner. It was the sort of situation she had always been taught should be met with a scream at full volume.

But he was her husband, if only for a night. She kissed him back.

***

It was midnight and Becky was married and her husband was going to die. By the morning, she would be the widowed Mrs. Rebecca Crane. The thought should have filled her with a sense of accomplishment- this was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? But all she could think of was that kiss Crane had pressed against her.

It inspired two thoughts within her. The first was sorrow- Crane was a murderer, yes, but could she kiss a man and joy in his death in the morning? The second was fear. But of what? Of Crane? He was locked in a cell, and even if he hadn’t been, he’d offered her no threats of violence. 

Just as she was thinking this, she heard screams issuing down the street. It could have been anything- a fire, a gang of outlaws- but oh, not tonight. Not on the eve of Crane’s hanging. He would not be content to listen to anyone else inflict terror on the city of Gotham while he sat by idle, that much she felt in her heart.

Becky threw a robe on over her nightgown and proceeded toward the door. If it was Crane, she had no illusions that she could stop him, but neither could she hide in her room without at least trying to do something.

When a black coach pulled up to her door, she knew she had been right.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“I’ve come to claim my wife. Your coach awaits you, my dear. I think you’ll be very pleased by where we’re going.” His face looked almost angelic in the moonlight, but was belied by the black coach and horses. He could promise her whatever he wished, but he could not do so without posing his own kind of threat.

_ “Nine coaches waiting,” _ she thought.  _ “Hurry, hurry hurry!” _ And the heroine of that play had responded  _ “Aye, to the devil!” _

“What did you see in me?” she asked.

Crane seemed to consider the question.

“A few things. The same thing any man sees in an attractive auburn-haired creature, for one. For another, your audacity in making me such a ridiculous offer. And third, your fear.”

“You wanted a bride who feared you? You’re as cruel as anyone mother would have picked out for me.”

“No, not exactly. I saw that you feared me, and yet that fear was mixed with something else. Pity? Contempt? Desire? I obviously hope for the latter, but mostly I wanted to know. And now we have all our lives to learn about each others’ fears. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“I might kill you,” Becky said, “and end that life a little bit early. It would be the best thing for the whole city of Gotham.” It was mostly a bluff- not only had Becky not killed anyone before, she’d never even considered that she had the physical capability for violence. But if she lay with Crane as man and wife, she could easily cover his mouth and nose with a pillow; the thought horrified her, and the fact that she had the capacity to think it was even worse.

Crane tilted his head and gave the smallest perceptible smile.

“Try, then. Of my many phobias, death is not among them.”

And Becky Albright Crane let him pick her up and carry her onto the black coach. And perhaps it was because she feared him, and perhaps it was because she was now his wife, and perhaps it was because she might have the best chance of anyone at killing him. Or perhaps it was because she was just as curious as Jonathan Crane as to what emotion within her mixed with fear when she looked into his cold blue eyes.

It was a mistake, she knew. But she would have the rest of her life to decide how great a mistake it was, and she might as well get started now.


End file.
